Chapter 622 A Harsh Approach


    Carefully, Erik and Reba began their walk down the narrow and cluttered streets of the slums, stepping over the broken pavement and skillfully maneuvering around the sprinkled waste that was scattered all around them. The stench of decay and desperation permeated the air, making it difficult to breathe, and the once lively streets were now hauntingly still and devoid of any signs of life. The stark contrast between the gleaming skyscrapers of the city and their surroundings created the impression of two distinct worlds.


    Buildings were crumbling, their facades stained with years of neglect and windows boarded up to keep out intruders. The few people they saw looked haggard and worn, their eyes downcast and their faces etched with worry. It was a ce where survival mattered more than hope.


    People in ragged clothing shuffled by, their faces drawn and eyes vacant, bearing the marks of hardship and despair. Most of the individuals were mercenaries whocked the financial means to hire a healer, resulting in severe injuries that hindered their ability to continue their work. It was a sad view.


    The air was thick with the stench of rot and waste, and the sounds of the city were muffled, reced by the distant cries of children and the asional shout of anger or frustration made by the adults. Shadows lurked in the alleyways, and the eyes of the slum''s inhabitants followed them, suspicious.


    "What exactly are we searching for?" Reba asked, her voice filled with uncertainty as she took in their cruel surroundings.


    Erik''s eyes were sharp, scanning the faces of the people they passed. "The Crystal Cross Gang members are likely to wear a pin," he exined, his voice low. "It''s a symbol of their affiliation, and they usually wear them on their chests, but here they can''t proudly disy it. Look for it in inconspicuous ces, notpletely hidden but not obvious either."


    Reba looked at him, her brow furrowing. "Are you certain of this? Would they still wear it here?"


    Erik''s face was a mask of concentration, but he shook his head. "No, I''m uncertain, but it''s the best lead we have."


    Reba''s eyes narrowed, sensing something more. Should we search for anything else?"


    "Yes," Erik replied, his gaze never wavering from the crowd. "Look for unusual people."


    Rebaughed, the sound jarring in the oppressive silence of the slums. "In the slums, everyone is unusual."


    Erik''s lips twitched in a faint smile, but his eyes remained serious. "Fine, then look out for drug addicts. The gang''s likely involved in drug trafficking, and the addicts could lead us to them."


    Reba''sughter faded, reced by a look of determination. "Alright, let''s do this."


    They continued to walk, their steps echoing against the worn pavement, their eyes darting from one face to another in search of their targets. As they made their way deeper into the slums, the shadows lengthened, and the sense of danger grew. Erik wasn''t worried about his safety, but about Reba. He could fight anyone, but his friend couldn''t.


    The people they encountered along the way observed them intently, their eyes reflecting abination of curiosity and apprehension. As Erik and Reba entered the slums, they could sense the weight of hidden truths and the scarcity of trust.


    ***


    "Hey, look at that woman…" Erik said.


    Leaning against the graffiti-covered wall of a dpidated building, the woman''s frail body seemed even thinner, her face marked with the telltale signs of addiction. Sunken and zed, her eyes mirrored the state of her sallow and sore-covered skin. Her clothes, once resplendent and vivid, were now ragged, barely clinging to her gaunt figure. The fabric had deteriorated and thinned because of constant use and exposure to the elements. Every movement seemed to make the garments hang even more loosely, entuating her frailty and vulnerability.


    Her once glossy and meticulously maintained hair was now a chaotic jumble of tangles and filth. Strands of hair jutted out in every which way, mirroring the disorder and difficulty of her surroundings. She was unable to afford or prioritize tending to her appearance, as survival was of utmost importance.


    The fusion of her frayed clothing and disheveled hair evoked a portrayal of someone who had endured significant hardships and struggled to buy even the most necessities. She was a living embodiment of desperation, a tragic figure consumed by her need for the drugs that had taken over her life.


    "Do you think she is a drug addict?" Reba asked, looking at the woman while giving her a look of piety.


    Erik''s voice was low as he nodded toward her. "Strongly…" he replied. "Let''s go ask her some questions…"


    Reba nodded, following Erik as they approached her. She stumbled back when the two appeared before her, her eyes darting from side to side as if looking for an escape.


    Erik flicked, grabbing her arm and pulling her into a nearby alley, away from prying eyes. His Flyssa was out instantly, the de gleaming cold as he pointed it at her throat.


    "Please, don''t hurt me," the woman stammered, her eyes filled with terror. "I''ll do whatever you want. Just don''t hurt me."


    "We won''t hurt you if youply," Erik said, his voice cold and unyielding. "Look inside her pockets. See if she has any drugs," Erik said to Reba.


    Reba''s face twisted in difort at the rough handling of the woman, but she did as she was told, reaching into the woman''s pocket and pulling out a small stic bag filled with a brown powdery substance. She held it up for Erik to see, her eyes filled with a mix of dislike and pity.


    "Who sold you this?" Erik demanded, his eyes fixed on the woman, his voice sharp andmanding.


    The woman''s eyes darted from Erik to Reba, her body trembling. "I... I don''t know his name," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "He''s just a guy. Comes around here sometimes. I swear, I know nothing else."


    Erik''s face was hard, his eyes unyielding. "Think harder."


    The woman''s eyes filled with tears, and her body shook with fear. But behind the terror, there was a spark of defiance, a glimmer of the person she once was before the drugs had taken over.


    "I told you, I know nothing else," she insisted, her voice rising in desperation. "Please, just let me go. I won''t tell anyone I saw you."


    Erik''s sword remained steady, the de gleaming in the dim light of the alley. His eyes were locked on the woman, searching for any sign of deception, any clue that could lead them to the Crystal Cross Gang.


    The woman''s pleas hung in the air; Erik and Reba knew they had to press on to uncover the truth and bring the gang to justice. The stakes were too high, and the woman''s fate was but a small piece in a muchrger puzzle.